On the moun­tain’s top ap­pear­ing,
Lo! the sac­red her­ald stands,
Welcome news to Zi­on bear­ing
Zion, long in hos­tile lands:
Mourning cap­tive, God Him­self shall loose thy bands.
Mourning cap­tive, God Him­self shall loose thy bands.

Has Thy night been long and mourn­ful?
Have thy friends un­faith­ful proved?
Have thy foes been proud and scorn­ful,
By thy sighs and tears un­moved?
Cease thy mourn­ing, Zi­on still is well be­loved.
Cease thy mourn­ing, Zi­on still is well be­loved.

God, thy God, will now re­store thee;
He Himself ap­pears thy friend;
All thy foes shall flee be­fore thee;
Here their boasts and triu­mphs end:
Great de­liv­er­ance Zi­on’s king will sure­ly send.
Great de­liv­er­ance Zi­on’s king will sure­ly send.

Peace and joy shall now at­tend thee;
All thy war­fare now is past;
God thy Sav­ior will de­fend thee;
Victory is thine at last:
All thy con­flicts end in ev­er­last­ing rest.
All thy con­flicts end in ev­er­last­ing rest.